


136 - Pacifier

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Reader-Insert, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 10:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17405411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompt “Can you do a fic based on Pacifier, like how he tries and tries to get the girl and then she’s with someone else?”





	136 - Pacifier

Little moments can have big consequences. The butterfly effect, right? So maybe under different circumstances, you would have gone home with Van instead of Isla. But, you didn't. The hours you spent with your legs across Van's on the dirty bar couch, drinking and laughing at everyone were good. The chemistry was evidently there, and he was easily one of the most beautiful people you'd seen. But then you saw Isla. She came walking into the bar with a group of friends and they were all lace and velvet and soft curves and pretty laughter.

You were at the bar getting more drinks for you and Van when she came crashing up to you. She winked and you felt it through your entire body. Isla was different to her friends in that she wore all black. Her boots were scuffed on the tips, her jeans were ripped at the knees, and her black long sleeve shirt meant you had to imagine the rest.

"Having a good night?" she asked. You smiled and nodded. "Good, good, my dude."

Her arm brushed against yours as you moved to leave. Back next to Van you could feel Isla watching, or was it you watching her?

The drinks kept pouring and the music got louder. You were throwing bar nuts across the table into Bondy's mouth. He was good at catching them, despite your terrible aim. Van whispered something about going for a smoke and disappeared from your side. "Bring back chocolate!" you called after him.

Twenty… thirty minutes later… you went looking for Van. The air outside was warm, and people were standing around smoking and chatting under the streetlights. Stumbling on the sidewalk you tried to locate Van, but he wasn't there.

"Babe, you okay? Look a little lost," Isla asked, walking over. She had a smoke between her fingers and her eyes were glittery.

"I… I can't find…"

"The lad you were with? The pretty one? Watched him walk off down the road a while ago," she told you, watching your reaction as she took another drag.

"Oh…"

"Do you want to wait with us for him? Have a smoke?"

You looked at her hand that she had offered to you. You took it, and let her fingers thread between yours.

By the time Van found you an hour later, he didn't have a chance. You were sitting on the hood of a car in the parking lot next to the bar. Isla smirked as he handed you a packet of M&Ms. You forgot about the chocolate. Van looked at her then, and his smile faded. He saw the way her arm was pressed against yours, the familiar way she looked at you.

"Do you guys know each other?" he asked, lighting a cigarette and trying to act like he wasn't hurt. He wanted to tell you about the big adventure he had to embark on to get you chocolate.

"Just meet," you replied. He nodded but looked like he was judging.

"Just like you and her, yeah?" Isla asked, grinning at him. She was being snide, and although you didn't want to like to watch it happen, you did. Instead of teasing too or fighting to get you back on his lap in the bar, he left you alone with her.

…

Everything would have been fine if your social group and Van's didn't overlap after that night. You wouldn't have had to endure the awkward drinks where he'd watch you and Isla bounce around together. His jealousy bled from him into the short words he said to you. He stopped being the warm Van you met, and turned into someone different. He was passive aggressive, buying you an obligatory wine to show he was fine when he clearly was not. He handed the glass over like it was evidence that he didn't need you, but the look in his eye undermined that entirely.

The tension continued to build and it rolled off you and Van wherever you went. People began to pick and choose if they'd invite you or Van to an event; both was a bad idea. Van would get too drunk and talk shit. You'd make a show of kissing lines down Isla's neck and pulling at her hair. 

Then, someone had to go and get fucking married, and you both ended up at a reception drunk and without dates. Isla had an interview for a sound engineer internship, and she said she'd try to reschedule but you couldn't let her do that. You tried to not watch as Van drank faster than everyone else. You tried to keep up with him from across the room.

Outside, having a smoke in the last rays of the day's sunshine, Van stumbled out after you. You were sitting on weird tree stump turned makeshift stool; stupid fucking woodland hipster weddings. Van plonked down next to you.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," you replied politely. The smoke was only halfway finished and you didn't want to waste it.

"This is the most pretentious wedding I've ever been at," he said.

"Well… if they're happy, don't think we get to judge,"

"I am judging," he slurred.

"Yep. I can see that."

He watched you for a moment before picking up the speech he'd tried to deliver once or twice before. "Are you happy with her?"

"Van," you said, standing up. You wobbled on the spot. He looked up at you and in the drunken haze you were reminded of how goddamn pretty he was.

"She's fine. Great. Whatever. But, like, I could make you happy,"

"Van. I'm not fucking cheating on Isla with you. Seriously. Go fuck yourself,"

"Didn't say cheat. It's just… always something to hide anyway, yeah?"

"No. No there isn't," you replied loudly and clearly. "Jesus, Van. You're obsessed. Just… leave it, yeah?"

You walked away, and after a few beats to let his jealousy and hurt bubble, he yelled after you, "Dress is too much for this wedding, Y/N!" It was the least offensive insult anyone had ever said to you; it was maybe the harshest thing Van could muster and that said a lot about him. It still hurt though.

…

"Y/N?" Van's voice from behind you. You turned around and looked at him. He'd found you at work.

"Go away," you replied, quickly walking from the spot to tidy up a rack of clothes elsewhere. He followed you.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry; that's all." His voice was genuine and you turned to face him. "I'm sorry. I was an idiot. I don't even like you like that anymore, so I don't know why…"

"You don't like me anymore, really? 'Cause I've got a million messages on my phone that say otherwise. They say something about you needing me to breathe? It's all very fuckin' dramatic, Van," you replied frustrated.

"I… It's not like that. Don't want nothing of you anymore, I promise. I'll leave you alone,"

"Van…" you weren't sure what to say. You didn't believe him at all. Clearly though, he was only capable of obsession or complete separation. "We can't just be friends?"

"I don't think so," he replied slowly. You nodded.

He walked from the store without so much as a hug or a goodbye, and you felt bad for how much it turned your stomach. All morning you were distracted and when your manager asked if you were sick, you said yes and took the invitation to go home at lunch.

…

Van did a glorious job at avoiding you. It wasn't until a month and a bit later you saw him scribbling into a notebook in the corner of a café. One of his booted feet was resting on the edge of the coffee table, and he was wearing his black denim jacket with the collar turned up. You knew you should have left him alone; he was leaving you alone after all. But, he was sunshine and magnetism and you were a fucking idiot.

He didn't notice you standing next to him and although you didn't mean to, you started to read what he was writing. Oh, but babe! You know I've tried and failed. But you just don't know how it feels to lose something you never had and never will.

"Lyrics?" you asked. He startled, jumping and slamming the notebook closed. "Sorry," you added quickly, stepping back. "Can I…?" He nodded, and you sat opposite him. "How have you been?"

"Okay. You?"

"Yeah, good,"

"You look tired,"

"Wow, Van-" you said getting ready to stand up. He sat straight and put his hands out to stop you.

"No! I didn't mean it in a nasty way. I just… Sorry."

You settled back in the seat. "I really fuckin' detest you sometimes," you joked, narrowing your eyes at him. Van grinned, and you missed his smile.

"Yeah, but you still kinda like me right?"

Maybe. Maybe not. Not sure. You were pacified by the question. Answering was a risk. Van grinned again when you were silent. He nodded like it was answer enough, then changed the subject. Little moments, big consequences.


End file.
